


The ‘S-’ word

by jomipay



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Gerry lives AU, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Other, Poly Relationship, Sickfic, TMA Valentine's Exchange 2021 (The Magnus Archives)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:22:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29437476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jomipay/pseuds/jomipay
Summary: His entire face ached and trying to breathe through his blocked nose only made the ache more prominent. He refused to be the ‘s- word’. He didn’t get the ‘s- word’.Gerry gets sick and gets some tender care from Jon and Martin.
Relationships: Gerard Keay/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 5
Kudos: 59
Collections: TMA Valentine's Exchange 2021





	The ‘S-’ word

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PitViperOfDoom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PitViperOfDoom/gifts).



> The archives are still spooky, Jon has still got eye powers, but Gerry is and in the most tender and caring relationship with Jon and Martin.
> 
> Thank you [@makesometime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/makesometime/pseuds/makesometime) for the Britpick and beta and [@theknittingjedi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKnittingJedi/pseuds/TheKnittingJedi) for the beta!
> 
> Happy Valentine’s Day PitViperOfDoom!

Gerry woke to a pounding headache and a scratchy, sore throat. He groaned and his voice cracked around it. He rolled over and shoved his face in his pillow, shutting his eyes and willing away whatever illness had taken up residence in his body. When that proved to be unsuccessful, he swore instead, curling up into a ball on his side and stubbornly falling back to sleep. The throbbing of his head rudely startled him awake a couple hours later. His entire face ached and trying to breathe through his blocked nose only made the ache more prominent. He refused to be the ‘s- word’. He didn’t get the ‘s- word’. He stubbornly kicked his damp covers off and planted his feet on the floor, standing much too quickly and making his head swim and pound painfully. He sniffled and sat back down, rubbing at his temples before running a hand through his sweaty hair. He got up again, more slowly this time, and padded out to the kitchen. A steaming cup of tea would chase the soreness in his throat away. Probably.

The flat was empty. Jon and Martin would both be gone at work for the next several hours. He brewed his tea and took it over to the sofa to watch something. There was a knit blanket on the sofa, a dark forest green thing with a thick knit that Martin had made for Jon. Gerry’s own was still at the foot of his bed and this one smelled like both of them. They like to curl up together and watch the news in the morning before work. He flicked through channels aimlessly as he cocooned himself, just trying to find something mindless enough to enjoy while he drifted in and out of consciousness. Tipping Point was on and he scoffed at himself even as he settled further into the sofa. The episode was just starting. The beginning was always his favorite, he liked listening to the easy and ridiculous questions people always got wrong, like what does the ‘N’ on the gearbox of a car stand for? Really, how was that a question you could win money by answering? 

There was a set of pinprick pains across his shoulders as Slayer jumped onto the back of the sofa and walked over his shoulders before settling down across his lap. He stroked her jet black fur as he watched the overdramatised closeups the little chips got as they were dropped by the machine. He started to drift off and he slumped with his legs curled up so they weren’t hanging over the edge of the couch. His face still ached and his nose was still blocked, but he positioned the pillows behind himself to optimize his airflow. The last question he remembered hearing was which medical facility the H on road signs signified, and he tried to channel his thoughts toward being glad the man who answered had gotten it right instead of thinking about burns and pain and Diego Molina. 

He woke up shivering in the middle of a different episode. God, but it was fucking freezing in the flat. The chill of the air was offensive against his heated skin. Tea, he needed more tea. He got up, dislodging Slayer from where she was using one of his calves as a pillow. He wrapped the blanket around himself, holding it together at the neck like a cape, the way he used to do sometimes when he was little and his mother was around to belittle him for how ridiculous it was. 

He shuffled into the kitchen, face aching with every step, trying to decide if breathing through his blocked nose or through his mouth was worse. His stomach was now churning unpleasantly. A recent and unwelcome development he was not currently in possession of the wherewithal to get ahead of. Tea. Ginger tea.

They didn’t have ginger tea. That was fine, he would just text Martin. His phone was still in the bedroom and the distance seemed so great as to be untraversable. Fine.

He was sick. He was sick and miserable and there was no ginger tea. 

“That’s it, Slayer. This is the worst day I’ve ever had.” Gerry looked down to where she had followed him into the kitchen. “Don’t look at me like that, of course I know that’s an exaggeration. I’m allowed to be dramatic.”

  
  


***

Jon opened the door to the flat, smiling, hoping to catch a glimpse of Gerry or Slayer. He missed them when he was gone all day. Martin’s insistence he leave work earlier and the promise of seeing Gerry and his cat had been encouraging him to leave work earlier. He found Gerry leaning heavily against the kitchen counter, curtain of black hair falling over one shoulder. It was tangled, and it made Jon’s fingers itch. Maybe he would offer to brush it out and braid it. Gerry was watching the kettle with a great intensity. He looked dead on his feet, paler than usual, and very much as though if it weren’t for the support of the counter, he would simply be slumped on the floor.

“Are you feeling quite well?”

Gerry waved a hand at him. “‘M fine,.” hHe croaked, voice raspy and thick with snot.

“You know you can’t actually lie to me, right? Furthermore, I don’t need the Eeye to tell that you are quite obviously sick.”

Gerry straightened, groaning and rolling his eyes heavily. 

“Well, what does Eeldritch Google tell you about what’s going to make my throat not feel like I’ve swallowed seven7 razor blades?”

“Honey.” Jon said automatically. “And some cold medicine.”

“Do we have cold medicine?” Gerry asked, voice hoarse and thick.

“No. But Martin is out getting takeaway. I’ll have him pick some up on the way home.” Jon tapped a message out on his phone. “I’ll have him pick up some ginger tea, too. I know you can’t stand Earl Grey.”

Jon walked away, still tapping on his phone, thinking for a moment about what food Gerry might like best right now and which cold medicine would be most effective. He didn’t have long to wait before the information was deposited in his head. Soup, from a place he’d once gone with Gertrude, that was what he always craved when he was sick. The combination of the texture and the mild spice was appealing to him. 

Jon set his things down and changed out of his work clothes into something soft and warm. Then he went into Gerry’s room and picked out his favorite pair of sleep trousers that he would give him to wear with one of Martin’s jumpers. 

“Here,” he said, offering the clothing to Gerry. “I know you sweat through your current clothes earlier and figured this would be more comfortable.”

Gerry stripped and changed without protest, groaning as he moved his aching muscles. Jon herded him to the sofa and sat him down, covering him with the blanket and pulling his head into his lap to begin working some of the knots in his hair loose with his fingers. He pulled his fingers through Gerry’s hair for a while, until the worst of the snarls and tangles had been dealt with before moving his hands to Gerry’s temples and applying an even pressure. 

Gerry groaned as Jon massaged his temples and down over his cheek bones and on either side of his nose. Gerry closed his eyes and sighed, relaxing fully into him. Jon leaned down and pressed a kiss to his heated forehead.

“Martin will be home soon with soup and tea.”

Gerry grunted and turned so he was curled on his side, using Jon’s lap as a pillow. Jon smiled and stroked his hair, changing the television channel to a pleasant nature documentary.

***

Martin shifted all the bags to one hand so he could open the door. The flat was silent quiet but for the quiet sounds of the television playing into the dark room. Martin put set all the bags down and set to brewing some tea, which he brought over to Gerry with the soup Jon had instructed him to get and the cold medicine he’d picked up.

Gerry sat up from Jon’s lap as Martin set the tea and food down on the coffee table, picking up the mug of tea and inhaling deeply as best he could. 

He kissed Gerry’s cheek and ruffled Jon’s hair, smiling at the grumbling it earned him. 

“Hang on a sec and I’ll bring you some water for the pills.”

He stole a glance back at his partners from the kitchen. Jon had moved to put an arm around Gerry, rubbing circles into his back. It made Martin’s chest swell to see the two of them indulging in the tender affection that had grown between the three of them. 

Martin settled in on the other side of Gerry, making sure he ate enough and took his pills. They watched the nature documentary Jon had put on and after a time, Gerry’s sniffles faded a bit as the medication started to work. They arranged themselves so that Gerry was sprawled over both Martin and Jon, with his head and shoulders in Jon’s lap and his torso and legs over Martin’s. Jon was braiding his hair, humming under his breath as he did so. 

He let the sounds of Jon humming and Gerry chattering at them both wash over him. Gerry’s speech began to slur as the medication really started to take hold, and Martin took a moment to make himself comfortable, fearing he might find himself trapped under one of his boyfriends as he fell asleep. 

Sensing how close to unconsciousness he was, Jon massaged Gerry’s temples again, until his breathing was slow and even, coming easier than it had since Martin came home. He was upset Gerry was sick, but so happy to be able to hold him, to care for him alongside the only other person in the world he cared for as much. He sighed, content and happy, letting Jon’s humming and Gerry’s quiet snoring lull him into his own light sleep.


End file.
